


specter

by soulofme



Series: sheith sentence prompts [26]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ghosts, Haunted Buildings, M/M, Past Character Death, Past Murder, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 07:52:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15529611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulofme/pseuds/soulofme
Summary: “Why’d you have to do it?” Keith asked, shaking his head. “Why’d you always have to be the hero?”“You needed me,” Shiro said, as if it should’ve been obvious. “And I loved you. I would’ve done anything for you.”





	specter

**Author's Note:**

> sentence prompt "ad": you don’t see me.

The flashlight went out as soon as Keith stepped through the door.

“Fuck,” he muttered, shaking it in a valiant attempt to turn it back on.

It didn’t work, though, and Keith tossed it aside. It clattered against the floor before rolling away to some dark corner. Keith turned around, glaring at the van where his friends would spend the night cracking jokes and binging on junk food.

Keith pulled his hood up and stepped deeper into the room. No one had been to the swim center in two years. Not since the murder.

A chill passed over Keith. He stopped, staring down the dark hallway. He felt blindly along the wall until he found the light switch, but flicking it did nothing.

He wasn’t surprised. The building had been flat out abandoned.

Keith wasn’t sure when all the rumors of the place being haunted had started. Maybe it was a week or so after the murder, when everyone was struggling to think of a way to cope with their grief. He remembered hearing kids talking about it and repressing the urge to punch each and every one of them. He didn’t want anyone to make it into a joke. Not when he knew what happened.

When Lance had dared him to spend a night at the swim center, Keith wanted to ignore him. Not because he was scared, but because he didn’t think he could step foot into it again.

Life after the murder had been rough. Keith’s father packed them up and moved them to the next county. But it still hung over Keith like a dark cloud, one that wouldn’t go away no matter how much he hoped it would.

When his father died, Keith thought that the memory of that day would as well. If anything, the loss seemed to compound everything. There was yet another person he cared about, gone with no way of ever seeing them again.

It took a while to forget about it, to convince himself that despite what his mind told him, Keith did nothing wrong. He wasn’t a murderer. He _wasn’t_.

Lance, Pidge, and Hunk didn’t know anything about Keith’s life before he moved into their neighborhood. When they prodded him for details, Keith expertly shut the conversation down. They still tried every now and then, but Keith always had a practiced answer that satisfied them for a while.

But no answer would explain why he had no desire to return to the swim center. No lie he could think of would be able to explain the guilt that plagued him most nights, that chewed him up and spit him out.

Nothing would explain Shiro.

Keith stopped again, hand still pressed against the cold wall. The smell of chlorine was overwhelming, enough to make his stomach twist uncomfortably. He could turn around, he thought distantly. He could turn around, march out to the car and make up some lie. A ghost touched him, he’d say, and it made him almost piss himself.

Lance would buy it. Tease him relentlessly, probably, but he’d never ask Keith to come here again. Not unless he was feeling particularly sadistic, in which case Keith could just flat out say _no_. He did it before, he’d say, and there would be no reason to do it _again_.

But Keith couldn’t turn around. Maybe it was his stubborn nature that pushed him forward, or maybe it was the crazy thought that he _would_ find something.

With each step, the smell of chlorine began to get stronger. Keith made it out of the hall and stared at the pool. It was still filled, with dead leaves floating on the surface. The glass ceiling was cracked and broken, letting in the cool November air.

Keith looked at it for a few moments before stepping to the edge of the pool. The lights inside of it were still on, casting everything in an eerie blue glow. Keith crouched down, staring down at his reflection.

Suddenly, something rattled behind him. Keith shot up, his eyes scanning the darkness of the room for the source of the sound. He found nothing, though, but couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t alone.

“Hello?” he called hesitantly. He wanted to hit himself for sounding so scared.

Ghosts weren’t real. He was sure of it.

But then, he saw it.

It was quick, so quick that he thought he imagined it. A trick of the light. His own paranoia talking. But then Keith saw it again, that flash of white, a ripple in the air, and he _knew_.

There was something there.

“Hello?” he said again.

The figure stopped. It looked like the outline of a boy, and Keith’s stomach flipped. He felt nauseous and dug his fingernails into his palm as he moved towards it.

“Shiro?” he whispered, afraid that any louder sound would scare him off.

Shiro looked the same. That was the worst part about this whole thing. He’d be eternally sixteen, while the rest of his family and friends would age and go through life. All without him.

Keith waited for Shiro to speak. He was dressed in his school uniform, the same thing he’d been wearing when the police had fished him out of the pool. Blood seeped from a wound at the back of his head. The medical examiner’s office said that was part of what killed him. Blood loss combined with the water that filled his lungs when he’d been left to drown.

But even now, Shiro’s eyes were warm and inviting. It was almost like he was still alive. He looked confused, like he wasn’t sure that Keith was really before him, but he was still _Shiro_.

“You don’t see me,” Shiro muttered, probably more to himself than anything. “You _can’t_ see me.”

“I see you, Shiro,” Keith said, daring to stop right before him. “I’m looking right at you.”

“That’s impossible,” Shiro said, sounding certain of that, “I died, Keith.”

Hearing the words out loud felt like a slap to the face. Keith had heard it many times before, of course, but there was something cruel about hearing Shiro himself say it.

“Shiro,” Keith said, and his voice cracked horribly on the name. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Shiro’s lower lip trembled, like he was holding back a sob. Keith felt like he was doing the same as he blinked back tears.

“You’re okay,” Shiro said. “You look well.”

“Do you remember what happened?” Keith asked. Thinking about that day brought forth a slew of painful memories.

“That kid was going to hurt you,” Shiro murmured. “I couldn’t let him.”

“He killed you,” Keith said. “You died because of me.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d said the words. His father had smacked him across the mouth for them. He’d never raised a hand to Keith before, but it was like he lost control of himself at that moment. _Don’t you ever say that again_ , he’d screamed, before he crushed Keith into a hug.

Shiro stared down at his body. He held his hands out, and they both watched as water dripped from them and fell to the tile below.

“What happened to him?” Shiro asked. Keith inhaled sharply.

“Dead,” Keith replied. “Suicide.”

He didn’t say anything else.

Shiro seemed satisfied by that. He looked at Keith with an unreadable expression, lifting his hand as if he was going to touch him. But then he flinched and yanked his hand away, making Keith yearn to feel him just once more. Even if it just felt like nothing at all, Keith _wanted_ it.

“Do you still live here?” Shiro asked. Keith shook his head.

“Dad took us away,” he muttered. “He died a year after. I, uh, found my mom, though. I’m with her now.”

Shiro perked up, smiling. It hurt to look at him, so Keith forced his eyes away.

“Keith, that’s awesome!”

“Her name’s Krolia,” Keith went on, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “She’s really great, actually. I told her about you.”

Shiro’s smile gradually slipped away. “What did you say?”

“I told her you saved me,” Keith muttered, “and that I wished I could’ve done the same.”

“Keith…”

“Why’d you have to do it?” Keith asked, shaking his head. “Why’d you always have to be the hero?”

“You needed me,” Shiro said, as if it should’ve been obvious. “And I loved you. I would’ve done anything for you.”

Keith wasn’t able to hold back his tears this time. He swiped a hand over his face and held his breath when he felt something cool against his cheeks. Shiro hand traced over his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose before his thumb brushed against the fullness of his lower lip.

“Do you think about me?” Shiro asked.

“Always,” Keith mumbled.

Shiro’s hand fell away. Keith stared up at him, struggling to think of what to say. Everything felt like too little, like it wasn’t even worth saying. But Keith didn’t think he’d ever get to see Shiro again. Not for a while.

“I’m sorry,” he finally managed to get out. Shiro’s eyebrows crinkled, but Keith pushed on. “I wish things were different. I wish it was me instead of you.”

“Don’t say that,” Shiro said. “Everything happens for a reason.”

“You were murdered,” Keith said, his voice rising as his anger swelled in him like a tidal wave. “You’re dead because of me, because I never knew how to keep my mouth shut!”

“You weren’t the one who killed me—”

“I basically did, didn’t it? You were cleaning up my mess. Just like always,” Keith said. He began to lose his fight, overcome with his ever-present guilt about the situation. “I’m sorry, Shiro.”

“I wouldn’t change a thing,” Shiro said. “I’d do it the same a thousand times if I had to.”

Keith sniffled and crossed his arms, tears still leaking from the corners of his eyes.

“Why are you still here?” he whispered. “Shouldn’t you have moved on by now?”

“I can’t,” Shiro said. “I’ve been trying, believe me, but it won’t happen.”

“My friend heard this place was haunted,” Keith continued. “I didn’t want to come. I didn’t think I’d be able to walk in here again.”

“I’m glad you did,” Shiro replied. “You know, I always wanted to see you again. Just once.”

“Well,” Keith started, “here I am.”

Shiro laughed and Keith found himself doing the same, even though it felt wrong to do so. Shiro beamed at him, his eyes bright and warm, and Keith felt like someone grabbed ahold of his heart and _squeezed_.

“Hey, Keith?” Shiro asked.

“Yeah?”

“Will you stay? Just until the morning?”

Shiro’s eyes were wide and earnest. It was obvious how much he wanted Keith to stay, even if Keith couldn’t figure out why he’d want to be anywhere near him. It was strange that Shiro didn’t blame him. But, if the tables were turned, Keith wasn’t sure he’d be able to blame Shiro either.

“Yeah,” Keith said, attempting to memorize the way Shiro’s smile crinkled his eyes at the corner. 

They settled beside each other on the concrete floor, staring at the pool, and Keith wished that he could lean into Shiro, just like he always had before. His eyes felt heavy, and he found them slipping shut he could stop himself.

He awoke to Lance shining a flashlight into his eyes. He jumped up, watching as the old towel draped over him fluttered to the ground. Keith stared at it, struggling to remember how it got there, and realized it had to be Shiro. He ignored Lance’s surprised shout, his eyes darting wildly throughout the room. There was no point.

Shiro was gone. He had finally moved on.

“Keith?” It was Hunk. He stepped forward, looking a little green in the face, and hesitantly patted Keith’s shoulder.

“Did you see anything?” Lance asked, shining the light this way and that. Pidge scowled when the beam hit her eye, crossing her arms as she glared at the pool.

“No,” Keith said, ignoring the heaviness that settled on his shoulders. “Not a damn thing.”


End file.
